Sacred and Herbal Healing Beers The Secrets of Ancient Fermentation

(1.6 pph), valine (6.0 pph), and glutamic acid (9.1 pph). It also contains gonadotropic and estrogenic hormones and Human Growth Hormone Factor (HGH). 53 Honey provides a highly charged energy source that enables the bees to perform their work and also serves them as a winter food source. Bee pollen, sometimes called bee food, is also a major food source and contains many nutrients, most especially protein, not available in sufficient quantities in honey to meet the bees’ needs. The freshly collected pollen varies a great deal in composition, depending on the plant species from which it comes and the weather. Little really is known about the medicinal effects of plant pollens as opposed to bee pollen. Like the plant nectar that is altered to form honey, pollen is subtly changed in its interaction with the bees during transport to the hive. To my knowledge, no research has been conducted comparing the medicinal and nutritional effects of any pollen to the plant from which it comes. Such a highly concentrated part of medicinal plant species will inevitably possess medicinal actions, just as the leaves, seeds, and roots do. What little is known about pollen, its medicinal actions, and properties comes from the study of plant pollens after they have been transported and stored by the bees in their hive. Rita Elkins’s exceptional book on pollen and hive products (Bee Pollen, Royal Jelly, Propolis, and Honey [Woodland Publishing, 1996]) has some of the best information on the clinical uses and studies of pollen. Pollen is perhaps the best single source of rutin and protein (assuming you have a high-protein bee pollen). Rutin strengthens capillaries, minimizes bleeding, and encourages coagulation, making it useful for those who bruise easily. The high protein content and other components in pollen have been found to enhance energy and endurance in people who consume it regularly. One British athletic coach, who participated in a clinical trial, noted In October 1973, I was asked to test the efficacy of a bee pollen product. I was initially skeptical of the results likely to be obtained by the use of this product. However, I asked five athletes training under me to take bee pollen in accordance with the manufacturer’s directions; that is, one to three pills a day. Within a period of 12 months, the athletic performance of all of the five athletes had substantially improved. 54 Bee pollen has been found to be antibiotic, antiviral, astringent, relaxant, tonic, and nutritive. It has been found effective in treatment of allergies, bacterial infections, asthma, capillary weakness, chronic fatigue, immune depression, menopausal symptoms, nutritional disorders, prostate problems,

chronic cystitis, and urinary tract infections. The primary use of bee pollen as medicine has traditionally been nutritive. Chicken embryo heart growth was found to accelerate when treated with pollen extracts, and gastrointestinal damage in test animals was reversed with a significant increase in weight after taking bee pollen extracts, and two studies on hospitalized children showed significant weight gain and increased serum protein levels when bee pollen was added to their diets. 55 Pollen is so good as a nutritive medicinal that researchers at the Royal Society of Naturalists in Belgium and France noted, “The nutritional tests supervised by the station at Bures on hundreds of mice have demonstrated that pollen is a complete food, that it is possible to let several generations be born and live without the least sign of distress while nourishing them exclusively on pollen.” 56 A number of clinicians have commented that it is so effective as a nutritive food that human beings could live on nothing more than a diet of pollen and water. In countries from Japan to Brazil researchers have used bee pollen in treating a number of prostate problems: prostata-hypertrophy, chronic prostatitis, and prostata vesiculitis. “The experimental-clinical results point to the fact that pollen extracts can be very valuable as specific drugs in the therapy of [prostate illness].” 57 In one Japanese clinical trial on the effects of bee pollen on urination disorders caused by prostatic hyperplasia, researchers noted that “sense of residual urine improved 92%, retardation improved in 86%, night frequency improved in 85%, strain in urination improved in 56%, protraction improved in 53% and the force of the urinary stream improved in 53%.” 58 Numerous other studies showed similar results. Even more studies have shown its beneficial effects on prostatitis. One-third to one-half of the patients in clinical trials reported a complete cessation of symptoms; 75 percent noticed significant improvement. No side effects have been noted in any patients. As one report noted, “In vitro studies suggest that [bee pollen] is a potent cyclo-oxygenase and lipogenase inhibitor and a smooth muscle relaxant.” 59 A number of researchers have noted “unambiguously good” results from use of pollen extracts in treatment of chronic cystitis and urinary tract infections. One component in pollen, B-sitosterin, was identified as strongly antiinflammatory and of especial use in cystitis. Researchers commented, however, that there were obvious synergistic actions in pollen that they did not yet understand, noting that the isolated B-sitosterin was not as effective as the bee pollen itself when used for the same conditions. 60 Though the flavonoids in pollen are not as high as in propolis, another hive product, “these very widespread floral compounds also play a determining role

in the medicinal effects” of pollen. 61 Flavonoids provide antiviral action through their ability to stop viral cells from breaking open and infecting the viral host (i.e., us). This antiviral activity combines well with its antibacterial action. Pollen has been found to be effective against Escherichia coli, Proteus, salmonella, and some other strains of colibacillus. 62 It has been found in clinical trial that people who consume bee pollen regularly have significantly fewer upper respiratory infections. 63 Bee pollen was also found to significantly reduce the side effects from radiotherapy. In one trial, women being treated for inoperable uterine cancer experienced less nausea, stronger immune system response, an increase in red and white blood cell count, good appetite, and less weakness and sleep disruption. 64 Many people with hay fever, allergies, and asthma have experienced good results from the use of bee pollen in alleviating or improving symptoms. The HGH hormones in pollen seem to play a significant role in increased body weight and healthier growth in both clinical trials and empirical studies. In studies in Turkey, bee pollen has been found to be effective in the treatment of male impotency, low sperm count and motility, and male sexual drive. 65 Researchers are presuming the gonadotropic hormones in bee pollen play a role in these results. Conversely, the presence of estrogenic hormones seem to help explain the effectiveness of bee pollen in alleviating the symptoms of menopause in women. Many of the properties of pollen are in the ether oils and plant resins that are not easily water soluble. Ingesting either the bee pollen itself or an alcohol and water extract, or else including it in fermentation is best. Unlike propolis and honey, bee pollen does not keep well; the fresher the better. The medicinal activity of pollen over one to one and a half years decreases sharply. PROPOLIS There is a balm in Gilead that makes the wounded whole; There is a balm in Gilead that heals the sin-sick soul. —From an old Christian hymn Propolis, called Balm of Gilead in the Bible, is a gummy, resinous substance gathered by bees from the leaves and bark of trees. It is gathered from such trees as aspen, poplar, birch, elm, alder, horse chestnut, willow, pine, and fir. The Balm of Gilead—known to the Muslims as balsam Mecca—was gathered from the Middle Eastern evergreen Commiphora opobalsamum and the tree from which myrrh comes, Commiphora absynnica. 66 However, bees who have hives

where there is insufficient tree growth will resort to other substances, such as paint, rubber compounds, and asphalt—not the kind of propolis to take for health. 67 In gathering the resin, the honeybee bites into the sticky substance and transfers it to the pollen basket on its hind legs. It is taken back to the hive, where another bee unloads it for use. The tree resin is combined by the bees with nectar, pollen, wax, and their own enzymes to make the final propolis mixture. It is then applied to cracks and holes as a sealant in the hive, and it lines the entrance to the hive. Propolis protects the hive from contaminants and sterilizes returning bees as they enter the hive. It is a stabilizer, cement, insulator, filler, varnish for the comb, and antiseptic. Propolis varies in color from light yellowish-green to a dark brown, depending on the plants from which it is gathered and its age. When warm, it is sticky and pliable (as you might expect in a resin), but when cold, it is hard and brittle. Though rarely used in medicine in the United States, propolis has a long traditional and contemporary use in Western and Eastern Europe. It was widely prescribed by Hippocrates, and in the first century A.D., Pliny the Elder noted that “current physicians use Propolis as a medicine because it extracts stings and all substances embedded in the flesh, reduces swelling, softens indurations, soothes pain of the sinews, and heals sores when it appears hopeless for them to mend.” It was used throughout the Middle Ages and even recommended by Culpepper for inflammations and fever. 68 Propolis has more bioflavonoids than oranges—a major bioflavonoid source —and contains all the known vitamins except vitamin K and all the minerals needed by the body except sulphur. It is composed of 50 percent tree resins, 30 percent wax, 10 percent bee pollen, and 10 percent essential oils. As with honey and pollen, not all the compounds in propolis have been identified. 69 Propolis has been found effective as an antibacterial, vulnerary, antiviral, antibiotic, antifungal, anti-inflammatory, antioxidant, antiallergenic, immune system enhancer, and antiseptic. It retains these qualities, when stored under proper conditions, for many years. Propolis has been used in Soviet medicine to effectively treat tuberculosis (TB), gastric and duododenal ulcers, eczema, puritis, and septic wound infections. Standard Russian clinical practice for TB recommends 15 to 30 grams of propolis two to three times per day or 15 to 35 drops of an alcohol extract for from one to three months. Ulcers are treated with 12 drops of the extract three times a day for 30 to 35 days. Use has alleviated the heartburn,

pain, nausea, and vomiting concomitant with ulceration. Soviet physicians have effectively used propolis in the treatment of juvenile ulcerous stomatitis. The propolis is tinctured one to four in 95 percent grain alcohol and, after tincturing, an equal volume of water is added to the tincture. Dosage is as above. 70 Research has shown that propolis is inhibitory to Helicobacter pylori, the bacterium that causes ulcers. 71 The propolis solution described above, 60 drops in a glass of water, used as a gargle, has been found effective in sore throats from colds and flu. Skin diseases and infected wounds are treated topically, 72 and propolis has been found to be highly effective in the treatment of herpes zoster. Use of a 5 percent propolis solution in 20 cases of herpes completely reduced pain within 48 hours and significantly advanced sore-healing time. 73 Romanian clinicians have used propolis in the treatment of severe acne, prostate inflammation, mouth infections and dental cavities, and burns. Acne and prostate inflammation have been treated with propolis in capsule form. Mouth infections and burns have been treated topically. 74 Propolis has been used with success in filling cavities, preventing further decay, and killing the invading bacteria. In antiviral studies, a number of compounds in propolis have been found to highly inhibit the replication of various virus types. In combination, these compounds show a highly synergistic activity, producing inhibition beyond their individual activity. 75 Propolis apparently strengthens the virus’s protein coat, keeping it isolated from any organism it enters by inhibiting the enzyme that allows the virus to break out of its shell. Propolis also has been found to stimulate phagocytosis and speed detoxification. 76 As such, it has been found to be effective in the treatment of colds and flu. In addition, it seems to obviate fatigue when taken as a daily supplement. Both alone and in combination with honey, propolis has been found highly effective in the treatment of serious burns. Russian physicians note that it curbs inflammation, disinfects, and stimulates new skin growth. 77 Additional controlled trials were preformed in the Netherlands: patients with serious bone necrosis and infection that would normally require amputation and in which standard medical protocols were ineffective were effectively treated with a honey and propolis combination. 78 And Polish studies using propolis found it to inhibit antibiotic-resistant strains of Staphylococcus aureus. 79 Researchers at Columbia University found propolis effective against cancer, inhibiting abnormal cells without affecting normal ones. The Columbia researchers commented that “caffeic acid esters, present in the Propolis of

honeybee hives, are potent inhibitors of human colon tumor cell growth.” 80 Traditionally, propolis was difficult to remove from the hives, though modern beekeepers have developed methods to make removal easier. Historically, when mead was made from honey, as noted earlier, the greater portion of the comb, including large amounts of propolis, was taken and boiled to produce the wort from which mead was made. The propolis content of such a historical mead would have been high. ROYAL JELLY Royal jelly is a truly unique creation of honeybees. It is synthesized by “nurse” bees—young worker bees between 5 and 15 days of age. The royal jelly is synthesized by the nurse bees’ hypopharyngeal glands from a diet of bee pollen and honey. It is a thick, creamy, milky-white substance upon which the queen bee feeds. Royal jelly has remarkable effects upon the queen bee. Born no different from other bees, her life is extended from the usual six weeks that most bees enjoy to five years. She grows to 17 millimeters in length and attains a weight of 200 milligrams, as compared to the normal bees’ length of 12 millimeters and weight of 125 milligrams. The queen lays approximately 2,200 eggs each day (200 times her body weight), more than 2,000,000 in her lifetime —a feat no other creature on Earth equals. 81 The eggs laid by the queen that are destined to become queen bees are identical in every respect to eggs that become workers—the only difference is the exclusive diet of royal jelly that makes a bee a queen. Worker bees, during the larval stage, are given royal jelly for a period of about three days. Royal jelly is even more complex than the other hive products. Like those, scientists have been unable to identify all the compounds of royal jelly. Synthetic royal jelly has been made and marketed, but used on young bees it fails to produce queens, and it does not produce the same effects in clinical trials on people as those produced by bee-produced royal jelly. Whereas honey, propolis, and bee pollen all differ from location to location and country to country, no differences have been found in the royal jelly produced by bees throughout the world. Moisture content is about 66 percent, protein 12 1/2 percent, fat 5 1/2 percent, carbohydrates 12 1/2 percent, and 3 1/2 percent of the content of royal jelly has not been identified. Due to the high moisture and nutritive content of royal jelly, it should be an excellent medium for bacterial growth, but it is not—neither in the hive nor out. One compound of royal jelly that might explain this is 10-hydroxy-2-decenoic acid, which possesses strong antibacterial and antifungal activity and makes up 2 to 3 percent of royal jelly. 82 Royal jelly is rich in bee pheromones; natural hormones; amino acids (including

all eight essential amino acids), particularly cystine, lysine, and arginine; B vitamins, especially pantothenic acid (B5 ); nucleic acids (including DNA and RNA); sugars, sterols, fatty acids, phosphorus compounds, and acetylcholine. 83 Pantothenic acid helps arm the human body against infection, helps process nutrients, and has shown antiaging effects in clinical trials. Studies have shown consistent and significant increases in the life spans of lab mice fed a pantothenic acid–enhanced diet. 84 Dr. Albert Saenz, in his report “Biology, Biochemistry, and the Therapeutic Effects of Royal Jelly in Human Pathology” (1984) remarking on trials held by the Pasteur Institute of Paris, noted that royal jelly showed remarkable effects in a number of areas. Patients with high bloodserum cholesterol levels who were given royal jelly showed a normalization of readings, patients with Buerger’s disease (thromboangiitis obliterans—another arterial disorder) showed significant improvement of symptoms, and elderly patients with mental disturbances and senility also showed significant improvement—probably due in part to the high acetylcholine levels of royal jelly. Acetylcholine plays a crucial role in the transmission of impulses from one nerve fiber to another across synaptic junctions, making it highly useful in the treatment of Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease, and multiple sclerosis. Trials have shown that the trembling associated with Parkinson’s disease is markedly reduced in patients taking royal jelly. Saenz also reported that royal jelly showed significant positive effects in treating “deficiency states, referring to malnutrition, slow convalescence after illness or operation, physical or mental exhaustion, loss of appetite, and abnormal loss of weight caused by anorexia nervosa.” 85 Researchers in Greece have shown that royal jelly produces significant effects in the treatment of arthritis. And trials in Argentina have documented the high levels of gamma globulin and a precursor to collagen in royal jelly. Use of royal jelly by those researchers in clinical trials produced significant antiaging effects in patient populations, not only slowing tissue degeneration but, in some cases, reversing it completely. 86 Clinical trials at the University of Sarajevo showed that royal jelly possesses strong antiviral activity. When combined with propolis and honey (10 percent royal jelly) and diluted 1 to 10, significant antiviral activity was detected in the patient population. Only 6 percent of the trial subjects receiving the dilute solution suffered viral infections; 40 percent of the placebo group became ill. 87 Canadian researchers in trials on nearly 1,000 lab mice found significant antitumor activity in royal jelly. A mixture of active tumor cells and royal jelly were injected into one group of mice, active tumor cells alone into another. All the mice receiving royal jelly survived with no incidence of tumor growth; the non–royal jelly mice

all died within 12 days. Royal jelly is considered antibacterial, antiviral, antibiotic, antitumor, tonic, nutritive, antiaging, euphoric, alterative, adaptogenic, a hormonal normalizer, and antidepressant. It targets nearly all the systems of the body: immune, cardiovascular, endocrine, integumentary, nervous, reproductive, cellular, skeletal, hepatic, and respiratory. Dr. H. W. Schmidt, in a lecture before the German Medical Association in October 1956 remarked: The effects of the active substances and nutrients contained in royal jelly take place throughout the entire body [and it] regulates all [its] functions. From all the investigations and observations that have been made with royal jelly, it is apparent that this substance is a powerful agent composed of hormones, nutrients, enzymes, and biocatalysts. Royal jelly revives and stimulates the functions of cells and the secretions of glands. It also steps up the metabolism, and stimulates the circulatory system. To summarize, … [it] works to preserve life and strength in the organism, … delays the aging process and helps the organism retain for as long as possible the physical freshness of the body, elasticity of the mind, and psychic buoyancy of youth. 88 Although clinical trials have not been conducted on reviving sexual function, royal jelly has a long history (some 4,000 years) of normalizing or revitalizing exhausted sexual function. Royal jelly also produces a natural “high” or euphoria when consumed that has occasioned comments by a number of researchers. The use of royal jelly is extremely ancient, especially in China, where it is used in a great array of products from skin care to medicines. Interestingly, the Chinese have made a royal jelly wine for many thousands of years. The scientific evidence for the efficacy of royal jelly is strongly supportive of the claims that have been traditionally made for the use of meads and honey in diet—that they produce remarkable effects on health, mental functioning, sexual activity, and life span. BEE VENOM It may seem odd to also include bee venom in this chapter on meads, but it does have its place. Angry bees were often an inadvertent ingredient of mead making. A hive was located, dug out of its hiding place, and the whole thing placed in a kettle to cook off the wax. The bees were anything but passive in this process. Bees, bee larvae, and the queen were often still present in the hive, and angry worker bees ferociously assaulted the hive stealers, following the hive as it was moved. These might seem to our modern sensibilities somewhat unsavory additives to the brew, but are quite important in their own right. At their most basic, the bees and larvae are significant protein sources, but they also include

the other thing that the bee is best known for besides honey—its sting. Bee venom was widely used in nineteenth-century medicine and is enjoying a strong resurgence today in many parts of the world. Today it is often used clinically through the stinging of live bees, but formerly it was used as Apis extract. King’s American Dispensatory, authored by John Uri Lloyd and Harvey Felter in 1895, described its production for use by physicians. It involved taking a swarm of live honeybees, placing them in a large jar, and shaking it vigorously to “excite their anger.” Alcohol was then added to the jar, the mixture left for a month, and the resulting solution then strained for use. Apis was specific for urinary tract and bladder infections, sore throats, hives and skin inflammations, coughs and colds, and neuromuscular disorders. It was considered diuretic, diaphoretic, anti-inflammatory, and alterative. King’s American Dispensatory (Cincinnati: Eclectic Publications, 1895) notes: We have known of well authenticated cases, where individuals suffering from rheumatism have been cured of that complaint after having been severely stung by the hivebee. We do not recommend this form of hypodermic injection, but prescribe [Apis] for rheumatic conditions with blanched puffiness and the peculiar stinging pain. 89 Research and clinical practice in the latter part of this century have shown bee venom to produce significant positive results in the treatment of rheumatoid arthritis, gout, multiple sclerosis, lupus, neuralgia, and shingles. 90 Russian research has shown that bee venom blocks the transmission of stimuli to the peripheral and central synapses, strongly influencing the nervous system. It raises the functional activity of the hypophysial-adrenal system, prevents development of convulsive states, is hypotensive, anticoagulant, and expands blood vessels in the brain. Russian clinicians have successfully used bee venom to eliminate prethrombosis states in patients suffering from atherosclerosis and thrombophlebitis. 91 A number of bee venom advocates have insisted that live bee venom (that is, an actual sting) is more efficacious than Apis or other forms of gathered bee venom. However, research by a number of clinicians over a five-year period of time failed to find any significant difference in outcomes in treatment of arthritic patients between live venom and collected venom. No toxicity has been reported in arthritic patients who use bee venom therapy. 92 Sixty-five to 75 percent of the patients with arthritis who used bee venom therapy in clinical trials experienced success with the treatment. Bee venom has been shown to be one of the most potent anti-inflammatories known. One of its components, mast cell degranulating peptide—peptide 401—has been shown to be 400 times as powerful as cortisone. However, hip joints are one of the few

areas of the body that do not respond to bee venom. 93 Bee venom is no longer collected in the manner John Uri Lloyd described in 1895; today, electric shock stimulates the bees to sting and the resultant venom is collected. Venom consists of a large number of peptides, enzymes, and amines—the exact makeup and action are not understood. 94 Interestingly, many of the compounds in bee venom also exist in stinging nettles. And nettles have shown positive activity in many of the same conditions for which bee venom is used, such as multiple sclerosis, arthritis, gout, urinary tract inflammation, and hives. 95 A bee hive. The original meads, made with angry bees included, certainly appear similar to the process of making Apis. It seems quite likely that bee venom was an active component of the ancient healing meads. HIVE PRODUCTS AND HEALTH The long-lived of antiquity who ate a diet primarily composed of bee products is impressive: Pythagoras, the Greek philosopher and mathematician, lived to the age of 90. His disciple, Apollonius, lived to 113. Anacreon, another Greek of antiquity, lived to 115. The Greek Democritus, perhaps one of the world’s greatest physicists, lived to 109.

Pliny the Elder researched the ages of people living exclusively on honey and hive product diets late in the first century A.D. He found that in the region of the Apennine mountains, there were an analomous number of people more than 100 years of age. Fifty-four were 100, 57 were between 100 and 110, 2 were 125 years old, and 7 were 135 years of age or older. In Parma, he located 5 who were more than 125, and nearby another 11 more than 100. Piast, the King of Poland in A.D. 825, was a beekeeper who subsisted primarily on honey and other hive products. He lived to be 120 years of age. One Hebrew tribe, the Essenes, were noted beekeepers and were renowned for their great age—many passing 100 years. Plutarch (A.D. 46–A.D.120) observed that the Britons, who subsisted on great amounts of honey, “only begin to grow old at one hundred and twenty years of age.” 96 The original Bardic name of the British Isles was “the Honey Isle of Beli”—beekeeping was a major industry and honey one of its principle commodities. When Pliny the Elder visited the British Isles, he commented that “These islanders consume great quantities of honey brew.” 97 A pre–World War II investigation of tombstones in Britain noted that there were many long-lived Britishers who ate a great deal of honey from the comb. A few: Sir Owen of Scotland died at 124 years of age, his last son was born when he was 98, and he walked 74 miles in six days in the last year of his life. Peter Garden, a Scot, died at the age of 131, keeping the appearance of a young man until the very end. William Ellis—130; Mr. Eccleston, Irish—143; Colonel Thomas Winsloe, Irish—146; Francis Consist—150; John Mount, Scot —136; Thomas Parr—152. And throughout the world beekeepers and mead drinkers have been reputed to enjoy extremely long life and good health. 98 Sir Kenelm Digby (see appendix 2) remarked on this when he commented about one of his mead recipes that This Meath is singularly good for a consumption, stone, gravel, weak-sight, and many more things. A chief Burgomaster of Antwerpe, used for many years to drink no other drink but this; at Meals and at all times, even for the pledging of healths. And though he were an old man, he was of an extraordinary vigor every way, and had every year a Child, had always a great appetite, and good digestion; and yet was not fat. 99 Perhaps the most interesting example of remarkable health from modern day is that of Noel Johnson, who at the age of 70 and in poor health began eating a diet consisting largely of honey and hive products. At the age of 90 (1993) he was title holder of the World’s Senior Boxing Championship and a seasoned marathoner competing in events on every continent on Earth. He looks to be about 55 years of age. Too, consumption of mead and honey have long been reputed to enhance

sexual prowess and fertility in all cultures that make extensive use of honey. In part, this reflects the procreative supporting properties of royal jelly and bee pollen. Hindus have long eaten honey to increase virility and our own term honeymoon comes from the ancient European practice of newlyweds eating nothing but honey for the first 30 days after marriage (a practice that was instituted to increase fertility of the couple and enhance the possibility of an immediate pregnancy). Though these reports are anecdotal, science is beginning to bear them out in many areas of research. There is good reason to believe that the remarkable properties of heather and honey together produce all the effects attributed to the ancient Mead of Inspiration. A Complete Hive Mead Ingredients 6 pounds wildflower honey 1 ounce propolis 1 ounce bee pollen 1 ounce royal jelly 3 gallons water yeast Boil honey and water for 30 minutes and skim off foam. During cooling, add propolis, bee pollen, royal jelly—do not strain. Cool to 70 degrees F. Pour into fermenting vessel, making sure the undissolved solids from the propolis, jelly, and pollen go into the fermentation vessel also. Add yeast. Let ferment until complete—16 to 26 days. Add 2/3 teaspoon honey to each bottle (if carbonated mead is desired), fill bottles, and cap. Ready to drink in two weeks to a year, depending on how long you wish to store it—the longer the better. Please note: I have found that honey beers, meads, sometimes ferment so slowly that it seems as if the fermentation is complete. Then when you bottle them, thinking it finished, the mead continues to ferment, creating tremendous pressure in the bottle. This has sometimes caused the bottle to explode, with can be quite dangerous. To avoid this I now let the meads ferment up to a year in the fermenter or else use a hydrometer to make sure that the fermentation is complete.

THREE Yeast A Magical and Medicinal Plant We cannot draw the wort until the bryggjemann (brewing man) comes. We know he is here when air bubbles start bursting around the rim of the filter-vat. —Norwegian village brewer, ca. 1950 1 Yeasts are so ubiquitous that other plants have to hide their sugars, whether by skin, by bark and cellulose, or by molecular structure (by storing the sugar as starch). Yeast has its own allies, however: enzymes. And at the right temperature the enzyme ally can convert starch to sugar. —Dale Pendell, 1995 2 God made yeast, as well as dough, and loves fermentation just as he loves vegetation. —Ralph Waldo Emerson 3 THE WORLD IS FILLED with those tiny, invisible plant organisms called yeasts. They pervade all parts of the Earth’s ecosystem. There are many different kinds, but one in particular has a special relationship with humankind—it is used in fermentation and in baking bread. Called Saccharomyces, it is always seeking out sugar; sugar is its food. Unlike the green plants that created the atmosphere and allowed our species to live on this planet, the Saccharomyces do something quite different. Green plants use the chlorophyll in their bodies in interaction with sunlight to create glucose from carbon dioxide and water. Half the glucose they make is changed by them into fructose, and the two molecules hook together to form a two-molecule sugar, sucrose. Sucrose is their energy material; it flows throughout the plant. A little of it is put into the flowers to entice the bees to

cross-pollinate them. Saccharomyces are named from the Greek for sugar or sweet, saccharo, and fungus, mycete. They are the fungi that eat or like sugar. What they do is different from green plants. They eat sugar and turn it into carbon dioxide and ethyl alcohol, reversing, in part, the process the green plants began. The carbon dioxide is used again by the green plants to make more sucrose that can be eaten again by the yeasts. To save sugars from the wandering appetite of the yeasts, living beings store or protect the sugars in their bodies in many ways. We protect the sugars in our bodies with our skin and by conversion into fats. Plants use bark and skin, too, and they also use a conversion process, turning sugar into starch so the yeasts can’t get at it. (And when we need those plant sugars for food that have been transformed into starch, an enzyme in our saliva coaxes it out of where it has been so carefully hidden.) Yeasts are everywhere; their conquest of the world is complete. Dale Pendell comments: [They] travel on dust, in the air. In cold climates [they] can winter over, if need be, in the ground, and then take to the air again in the spring, traveling on anything that flies…. One variety of wild yeast colonizes the wax bloom right on the skins of grapes. Kind of like a message from God. 4 Yeasts have had a relationship with humankind since our emergence on this planet. We love their excrement, the waste products they give off as they eat sugar—alcohol and carbon dioxide. In baking we want the carbon dioxide to make the dough rise. In brewing, we want the alcohol to do the same thing to our spirits. (And isn’t it odd that carbon dioxide in beer promotes alcohol absorption into the bloodstream through the walls of the stomach at a much faster rate?) In both we want the yeast bodies. The yeasts themselves have formed an integral part of the human diet for millennia. We love the alcohol and the carbon dioxide; but beverages were considered not only drink but a drink/food. And they formed an important part of the diet of our ancestors. Like plants, many yeasts have been domesticated. They have been used by brewers and bakers for a very long time—as humans measure time. But like medicinal plants, the wild species are more potent, less liable to weaken. If you compare the power of a wolf—look into its eyes—with a dog, you can see the difference between the wild and the domesticated. This distinction is evident in the domesticated plants as well. They are not as potent, not as strong as wild plants. Nor are they as strong in resisting disease.

In ancient times, wild yeasts were all that were used. The sugars were freed from grain by malting, or used directly through the use of honey or the sap of trees, or converted by saliva or molds, and set out in a water solution, an offering for the magic yeast. And the yeast would come. Once ensconced safely in its new food, the yeast would take steps to protect it. A thick head of foam would form on the surface of the sugar/liquid and the feeding yeast would give off clouds of carbon dioxide gas. Both prevent other yeasts from settling in the food and feeding. In the Middle Ages but even more today, such wildness is frowned upon, and we avoid wild yeasts whenever possible. Wild yeasts were not always predictable—unwanted yeasts could spoil the brew. So our ancestors developed highly complex ceremonies to prevent such a thing. Ancient peoples did not have microscopes, but they knew that there was a unique, special substance that came through the air, or sometimes on things, that caused the sugar water (the wort) to become ale. Ancient Norwegian terms for yeast are suggestive of how it was thought of, its meaning. Norway, like much of the world, was mostly composed of isolated settlements; people didn’t get around much. As such, each area of Norway, like much of the world, had its own terms for things. The different regions of Norway named the thing that brings the ale into being gjar—“working,” gjester —“foaming,” berm—“boiling,” kveik—“a brood that renews a race,” nore—“to kindle a fire,” fro—“seed,” and one whose exact meaning is unknown—gong. But when the wort begins to work in that region, the brewer says that “Gong had come into the ale.” 5 All the words are suggestive: there is a boiling, a fire being kindled, a new race being born. The commonness of terms associated with burning, boiling, and kindling a fire, for instance, are interesting. Yeast works through a rapid oxidation of the sugar, a kind of burning. And when it is at its most active, the brew—the wort—actually bubbles energetically. This association is clearly a part of older terms for yeast. A term meaning “boiling” is used throughout the world. It is common in many indigenous cultures. Too, when preserved yeast is added to new batches of beer, it is a brood renewing a race that has been dormant (and it is interesting that kveik comes from the same root word as kvaser—the being from whom the Mead of Inspiration was made). This concept of livingness and activity is present in all cultures that brew. All old European cultures and indigenous cultures viewed the moment when the wort began to work as one when life had entered it, when the fire had been rekindled. Once the gong or bryggjemann or kveik had come, the brewers and their

culture had a special relationship with them. 6 In many cultures, indigenous and otherwise, the wild yeast that came into the wort would be kept and nurtured as a part of the family. Like sourdough starters, some wild yeasts were used for many hundreds of years—no new wild yeasts being coaxed out of the heavens. All regions and clans, even brewers within families, used many differing methods to make the bryggjemann a home until it was time to feed him again. Inside South American and Egyptian clay brewing pots, when they were being made, lines, almost like language, were inscribed in which the yeast could live, in hibernation, until the next brewing. In the southwestern United States, the Papago would sometimes keep a little of the fermented tiswin in a special pot until the next year’s ceremonial brewing, or else the baskets into whose weave the yeast insinuated itself were saved and used again for only this purpose. In Norway they often used a log or juniper branch. Juniper branches would be placed in the barrel with the fermenting wort. As the yeast ate and produced offspring, a thick layer of yeast built up in the bottom of the barrel or fermenter, covering the juniper branches. After the beer was drawn off and the barrel was emptied, the yeast-covered juniper branches were taken out and hung up to dry. At the next brewing, a branch was taken down and put into the bottom of the barrel with new juniper branches. The wort was added, and the yeasts awakened from their hibernation and ate, making new beer once again. If a yeast log was used, a section of a birch tree was cut. Sometimes it was shaped and carved, sometimes simply placed in the wort. The yeast covered the log, and at the end, it, too, was hung up to dry. At the next brewing it was placed in the bottom of the fermenter, new wort was added, and fermentation began once again. Interestingly, birch has an extremely sweet sap, somewhat like maple, though weaker. The sap from the freshly cut tree draws the yeast deep within it as they search out its sugar. Then, during drying, the wood of the log cracks, forming deep crevices that allow the yeast to penetrate deep inside during the next brewing. Yeast can easily live a year in such a manner, and if tended to with devotion, will always produce good ale. At the marriage of children, when a new household was setting up and had no yeast of its own, sometimes the couple would get some from a neighbor, a juniper branch or a scraping from a log. Other times they would begin by trying to get a good ale yeast to come and live at their house, allowing a wild fermentation. This new, wild yeast would then become the kveik that was specific to the new household, and throughout the life of the family it would be the special bryggjemann that came to make ale for the family. Yeast likes a temperature of around 70 degrees F (like most people). As the

temperature drops, the yeast begins to slow down, and when it hits 41 degrees F it goes into hibernation. As the temperature rises, the yeast gets more active. Though yeast will ferment at higher temperatures (100 to 120 degrees F) many think the yeast degraded and the beer produced inferior.* No thermometers were used (or are used now by any rural or indigenous culture); brewers learned the temperature the yeast liked best. The tradition of some Norwegian brewers is quite beautiful. They reach in and touch the back of the hand, gently, to the wort. This might not seem that special until you understand that no one in Norway caresses lovers, family, or children with the palm of the hand; only the back, or “tender” side, is used. The palm is not “nice enough” for showing love. When the wort was the right temperature, “just a little warmer than the lips,” the yeast log was added. Soon, they would say, the kveik or bryggjemann would wake up and come into the wort. All parts of the brewing process were attendant with a religious earnestness in every ancient culture. Two aspects of this are of especial importance regarding the yeast. First, cultures seemed to take one of two approaches to yeast—one noisy, the other quiet and solemn. In one approach, it is felt that excited, sometimes even angry, strong energy helped the yeast to work more effectively. The Papago, in making the fermented tiswin, dance and sing noisily alongside the building where tiswin is made to encourage the yeast to wake up and act strongly. Some Norwegian brewers, when making extra-strong ale, would stamp around and act angry. “The angrier he was the stronger the ale.” 7 Alternatively, it is felt that the wort must be protected from anything that could “startle” the yeast and stop the fermentation. This attitude of respect and reverence is the more pervasive of the two throughout the brewing world. It is felt that the bryggjemann, or the spirit of the yeast, should be left alone to work in peace. The disrespect of stomping about, of looking in the fermenter as it worked, might scare the yeast and thus produce a bad ale. The bryggjemann would be upset and not do his work well. It is easy for scientists to ridicule such beliefs, though it is unlikely they would ridicule such Western actions as praying before a meal—at least not in public. But this kind of reverence pervades indigenous and older societies. Each life-form, whether a cactus, stone, or yeast, is viewed as an expression of the sacred, with its own intelligence, awareness, and sacred nature. Human disrespect of other life-forms and of the sacred, it is felt in all cultures except the technological ones, can lead only to a bad outcome. The second common element of reverence related to yeast is the initial ceremony just before the yeast is added. This is common in many cultures. The

Papago have one when they make tiswin and many older Norwegian brewers do also. For instance, one very old Norwegian brewer commented that she always took a little of the sweet wort before adding the yeast, went to the four corners of the brewing house, and poured a little in each corner “for the corner crones.” Another commented that “The brewer [always gives] the spirit some of the first and best of the wort from the filter-vat. It [is] poured into the four corners of the hearth, and the gift [is] repeated when the copper start[s] to boil.” 8 This offering to the four directions, for instance, with tiswin, is common throughout the indigenous world, and in many respects is similar to the offering of a “spirit plate.” Spirit plates, used often in Native American ceremonies, are filled with a selection of each of the foods at any ceremonial meal and left outside as an offering of respect. This is done in those cultures for much the same reasons it has been done in Norway. If there is no reverence for the sacred, if the proper ceremonies are not followed, the least that can be expected is that the ale will not ferment. In the worst case, if spirit is not “fed,” given nourishment, it disappears from human life. And human life, then, becomes empty. Neglecting to give proper reverence to spirit is an arrogance, a belief that human beings can rely only on themselves, an assertion that all successful things come from themselves alone. Within indigenous cultures, to do such a thing causes, as Black Elk, the Lakota holy man, once observed, everything that a human does to become foolish. But when the sacred is recognized and nourished, it helps human beings in their endeavors. Odd Nordland shares one story from a Norwegian brewer. [Tone Lund] was used to seeing the ale “dressed” in foam in the course of an hour, but this [new] ale did not react at all. While she was resting for a moment on the bed in despair, a woman entered. Tone thought she knew her, though she could not quite place her. But she [the woman] was lively and good natured. “I can’t get the ale to start working,” said Tone. “I don’t know why,” she said. “Don’t you know?” said the woman. “You have forgotten to give something to the spirit of the hearth,” she said. When reminded, [Tone] gave the spirit his share at once, and the ale “dressed” immediately. It started working so violently that it ran over the edge of the tub. 9 The success of the fermentation is of great importance in all older cultures, and because it was held to be a religious event, not a secular one, its every element was imbued with sacred meaning. One of the difficulties of viewing a sacred activity from a secular perspective is that within a secular orientation, all things are viewed as without meaning—as just events. From value-free

judgments, observers of non-Western, meaning-imbued cultures have too often moved into valueless observations. To cultures that have felt the life force of plants or of brewing, who have felt themselves make a deep connection with that life force, brewing is not a science—it is an art filled with the actions of the sacred. If they fail to show proper reverence in their actions, if their mind wanders, if they aren’t properly attentive to the life force in each part of brewing, they and their community pay for it by the failure of the ale. In some instances, the ceremonial brewing is of such importance, as with the Papago, that failure is filled with tremendous danger to the continuance of the community. The activity of yeast, and what it offers to human beings, has been an integral part of human success since the dawn of time. Its presence was integral to most of the food production and to the ceremonies around which food production occurred. In some cultures, such as the ancient Egyptian, brewers harvested excess yeast from brewing. They sold or gave it to the bakers, who made bread. And in many cultures, especially the Egyptians’, bread was made into beer and ale that made more yeast that made more bread. Yeast can be gathered from off the top of the fermenting beer, from the thick fluff that forms to protect the sugar water, or gathered from the bottom of the fermentation after the beer is drawn off. The terms ale, beer, wine, and mead can be somewhat confusing. In reality, all of them are simply natural fermentations, very much the same thing. All natural fermentations can be thought of as wines. Indeed, fermented barley was thought of by the Romans as a barley wine, not a beer. Fermented beverages from birch or palm saps are sometimes called a wine, sometimes a beer. Originally, however, ale was any fermentation made from grain, usually barley. Beer was only an ale with hops added during brewing. Mead was fermented honey, and wine was fermented fruits, usually grapes. Now natural fermentations are generally called either beer or wine, and the old distinctions between beer and ale have fallen away. But if a distinction is still to be made between ale and beer, it is that a certain kind of Saccharomyces likes to feed on the bottom of the fermenter at cooler temperatures. This bottom feeding —Saccharomyces uvarum or (originally) Saccharomyces carlbergensis—yeast is what is used to make beer. Saccharomyces cerevisiae like to eat on the top and prefer it warmer. They make ale, and are members of the same family, but with different table manners. The Saccharomyces yeasts are not the only ones that eat sugar and excrete carbon dioxide and alcohol, they are just the commonest that are used, the ones

we like the taste of best. There are many others. Some commercial brewers in Belgium still use only wild yeasts in their fermentation of lambic. More than 30 different wild yeasts ferment their beers, the main ones being Brettanomyces lambicus and Brettanomyces bruxellensis. Indigenous beers contain scores more. Numerous species of Pseudomonas, Lactobacillus, Leuconostoc, Schizosaccharomyces, Endomycopsis, Hansenula, and Saccharomyces have all been identified. Every type of yeast conveys its own special properties and flavors during fermentation. All of the yeasts have specific nutritional and medicinal qualities. Apart from any medicinal or nutritional qualities contributed by hops or other plants used in making traditional beers, the act of fermentation itself creates a powerful medicinal and nutritional beverage. For instance, consider only a few of the changes that occur in Indonesian tape, a primitive rice wine or beer, during fermentation: lysine is increased 15 percent, thiamine increases 300 percent, and protein content is doubled. This is common in all grains, sugars, and plants that are fermented. Yeasts synthesize B-complex vitamins to foster fermentation. Through fermenting, they produce the primary source of Bcomplex vitamins in many indigenous diets. Brewer’s yeasts contain essential trace minerals: selenium, chromium, and copper, in amounts comparable to fresh fruits and vegetables. The yeast plant itself is also high in protein. The longer a beverage is fermented, the greater the number of yeasts produced. Thus, in the fermentation of beers, a protein source is created where none or little existed before. For example, natural cassava root protein is about 1 1/2 percent. Fermented cassava, on the other hand, is about 8 percent protein.* This “biological ennoblement” of plants and sugars through fermentation produced a primary dietary source for our ancestors. 10 Brewer’s yeasts also contain the highest glucose tolerance factor (GTF) found in any food. GTF acts with insulin to promote glucose utilization by the body. Thus, it helps the body utilize glucose more efficiently. Brewer’s yeast, because of its high GTF levels, can reduce the insulin requirements for diabetics. It additionally has been shown to reduce serum cholesterol and triglyceride levels in elderly patients. Yeast, too, has long been used in the effective treatment of beriberi (caused by vitamin B1 deficiency) and pellagra (from niacin deficiency). Saccharomyces yeasts were used in standard practice herbal medicine in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and were considered stimulant, tonic, nutritive, antiseptic, and laxative. They maintained normal bowel movement in those with tendencies toward constipation, built up those suffering from

nutritive wasting or from a long illness, and showed remarkable antiseptic properties. Brewer’s yeast was used as a poultice, along with slippery elm bark, on sloughing ulcers, festering wounds with a tendency to gangrene, boils, and carbuncles. And it was used regularly in the treatment of diabetes. Contemporary medicine uses it in treatment of pellagra, beriberi, as a nutritional additive, for diabetes, and for lowering serum cholesterol levels. 11 That indigenous cultures knew the importance of fermentation to their diets cannot be doubted. Most of the world subsists, in the main, on vegetarian diets. Vegetarians tend to lack sufficient vitamin B12 for health (a vitamin that fermenting yeasts make in profusion). Rice diets, in addition, lack riboflavin and thiamine (leading to beriberi), which yeasts make in profusion. Maize diets are low in niacin (leading to pellagra), which yeasts also make in profusion. And many diets are low in vitamin C (leading to scurvy), especially during winter, which most fermented beverages contain in profusion. 12 African diets that consist primarily of maize are low in niacin, but those who drink substantial quantities of Kaffir beer never get the disease. In spite of a lack of fresh vegetables and fruits, the Otomi Indians of Mexico rarely get scurvy, because their traditional pulque, an agave cactus beer, contains so much vitamin C. Otomi who don’t drink pulque get cheilosis (a riboflavin and B-complex deficiency disease), but the disease is rare among the pulque drinkers. And no Otomi who drink pulque ever get thiamine deficiency diseases. 13 However, it must be pointed out that indigenous cultures and rural European drinkers, such as the Norwegians, tend to drink beer that is not as clarified as the type we drink in the United States. All traditional beers were unclarified by today’s standards. The yeast remained in the brew and was drunk along with it. So, if you are making your own, let the yeast that settles in the bottom of the bottles flow into your glass—it’s good for you. But, these practicalities aside, in all cases where oral accounts still exist, the knowledge of fermentation was a gift of the gods, of the sacred, to humankind. Indigenous cultures and older European brewers recognized that all the stages that led to successful brewing were sacred and should be attended with mindfulness and ceremony. Of all the steps, however, it was the moment when fermentation was ready to begin that was most important. It was at this time that “evil influences” could intervene and spoil the beer. Even thinking of this from our Western perspective, we can agree with that older perspective. It is at this moment that another kind of yeast, a yeast that will produce bad beer or wine, can get into the wort and produce an undrinkable fermentation. So once the wort has been prepared, great steps are always taken to protect the wort and usher in

only the one spirit, the yeast, that will produce good beer. The Charoti of South America view the time of fermentation as “the birth of the good spirit” 14 in the wort. And they take steps to make sure that no “bad spirit” gains entry first. There is a religious reverence attending this stage of brewing and a great mindfulness. The Charoti believe that brewing must take place at night (a belief also common to many Norwegian brewers). However, it is at night that many evil spirits are abroad, making the process much more difficult. The Charoti say that there are many bad spirits that will try to “prevent the birth of the good spirit.” 15 So they sing and play musical instruments throughout the first night while waiting for fermentation to begin. Once the good spirit enters the wort, it is powerful enough to stop any bad spirits from getting into the beer. Throughout the ceremony of encouraging the good spirit to enter and begin fermentation, the Charoti singers keep their attention focused on the essence of the good spirit, calling its intelligence into awakening, urging it to hear their call, exhorting it to come to them and settle into the home they have prepared for it. Hearing the description of this process without prejudice and comparing it to the description of Western brewers, it is not so very different. We wish only one yeast, the good one, to come and ferment our beer. And we take steps to prevent the bad ones from getting there first. We know, too, that once the good yeast is in the wort, it is very difficult for a bad one to gain entry. We place our emphasis on sterility and personally introducing a yeast that we buy. But those cultures who depend on wild yeasts use prayer to influence its appearance. Though to our Western way of thinking this is superstition, modern science is continuing to show that human perception and intention, prayer, can affect outcomes. (See, for instance, Larry Dossey’s Healing Words [New York: Harper Collins, 1993.]) Further, Western science is beginning to understand the Earth’s ecosystem as one living entity, Gaia, a claim that indigenous peoples have made for thousands of years. Indigenous cultures go further, however. They insist that Gaia has intelligence and awareness and that human beings can communicate with her. They also insist that it is possible for human beings to communicate with individual elements of the ecosystem, such as plants. Studies, such as those discussed in The Secret Life of Plants (New York: Harper Collins, 1989), show that plants grow better when people talk to them, when music is played, when they are, as one medicine man observed, treated like human beings. Interestingly, as regards medicinal plants, cultures widely disconnected have found not only the same medicinal uses for plants, but also the same spiritual uses. It is suggestive that almost all indigenous cultures have similar beliefs and

ceremonials about yeasts and the beginning of fermentation. How could cultures in South America and North American and Siberia and Africa, which have never had contact with each other, have the same kinds of ceremonies and beliefs about the moment when yeasts enter the fermentation vessel? By our way of thinking, they cannot. Yet, they do. The members of indigenous cultures insist that they are not making this all up but that they know the good spirit that enters the wort. It has a certain feeling to it, a certain essence, an intelligence that they can feel. And their descriptions of the process are very much like our own. Some cultures, like the Norwegian and the Papago, often keep the spirit of the yeast, the “good spirit,” in hibernation until needed again. Others rely on a new wild one each time they brew. But they do recognize what happens even if they describe it differently than we do. The Charoti are not alone in how they think. The Tarahumara of northern Mexico are similar. They, like the Otomi, brew a beer called pulque from the sweet sap of the agave cactus. And they, too, pray to usher in the spirit of fermentation. They do not dance, being of the “quiet” school. They believe that they have to be particularly mindful when the moment of fermentation comes, because if they are not, if they do not hold the “space” for the spirit to enter the agave wort, the liquid will not ferment. The Tarahumara, like some Norwegians, call it “boiling” when fermentation begins. They use special fermentation jars that are considered sacred and are never washed. Once a jar “learns to boil,” it is placed near other jars (filled with unfermented pulque) that have not learned how to boil, so that they might be taught to do so. (The yeast in the jar that has learned how to boil then enters the unfermented pulque and begins fermentation, thus “teaching” the new jar.) Once a jar learns how to boil, it is sacred and kept only for making pulque. Never washed, it has residues of yeasts in it and initiates fermentation whenever new, unfermented pulque is added to it. Interestingly, the Tarahumara (and some other cultures) place wormwood, an Artemisia species (see “About Wormwood” in chapter 7), on top of the covered jars once they start fermenting to “frighten away the evil spirits who might want to spoil the liquor.” 16 Artemisia is strongly antibacterial, antiseptic, and antifungal—it can be used in the treatment of yeast infections.

Medieval cooks. The Ainu, the indigenous tribal culture of Japan, see fermentation in much the same way as the Tarahumara. When the wort is ready, they circle around it and make prayers and offerings to Kamui Fuchi, the hearth goddess and guardian spirit. They call on her to protect the wort from the intrusion of “bad spirits” that can infect the wort and help bring the good spirit to awaken their rice or millet beer into potency. In return they offer her the first drink of beer, poured onto the hearth. While it is fermenting, they chew quantities of mugwort, an Artemisia species (see “About Mugwort” in chapter 9), and place it, along with other things, around the brewing vessel to protect it from infection. 17 And the Ifuagao headhunters of the Philippines dance. Like the Papago, the Charoti, and many others, they dance and call on the spirit to come and infuse the wort, to “increase and improve the brew” 18 and to ask help in preventing bad influences from infecting the fermentation. Then, later, they perform the tungale rite to, again, increase the rice beer’s potency and its quantity. They call their rice beer “the wine of the children.” We do the tungale rite for the wine of the children so that it will increase miraculously, so that it [will] be like a slow whirlpool, so that it [will] be like the stars, so that it [will] be like the bamboo of the Downstream Region which does not become watermarked and is impregnable [i.e., will not become infected], so that it will overcome the kindred [i.e., other, less benevolent spirits] on both sides. 19 Yeasts, like more complex plants, respond to being “treated like a human

being.” The scores of recipes for beer I offer in this book suggest the use of a domesticated, store-bought yeast. But if you can bring yourself to experiment, you might try making some of them with wild yeast. When the wort is ready, you might leave it out, uncovered, in a container with a wide opening. Then sit near it and begin to talk with the spirit of the yeast—to call on the bryggjemann or kveik to come—and see what it is like. To do so means reconnecting to the ancient tradition of fermentation—to connect to the thousands of wise women and wise men standing over their brewing vessels in small villages around the world calling on the spirits of fermentation to come to the wort and kindle the fire in it. Once you have brought a wild yeast to live at your home, place a carved stick in the fermenter and allow the yeast to fall deeply within its carvings. When the beer is finished, take the stick out and hang it up to dry somewhere out of the way. At your next fermentation, take it down and place it in the fermenter and call on it once again to awaken to life. If you do risk calling on a wild yeast and the wort turns out badly, what will you do then? you might ask. The wise ones might answer, “Perhaps you will have to dance harder the next time.” Some little things I planted in my field Crawling on hands and knees With my weed hoe. Nothing could I raise That would ferment. Only my child knew the plants That were around us. Repeatedly did he go picking them, And in the palm of my hand he placed them. With water I mixed them; Crouching before the jar I sat, Desiring that speedily it would ferment. After two mornings it felt kindly toward me And gloriously it fermented. —Part of the Papago Mockingbird Speech at the making of tiswin 20

FOUR Sacred Indigenous Beers Just as the life force of an animal is contained in its blood, so are fermented beverages infused with the life force of the plants from which they are made. Those plants that are more important to the survival of man, or which have stimulating psychological effects upon him, are, in tribal and early Western societies, thought to incorporate a particularly powerful force. Thus, throughout the ancient Mediterranean regions, alcoholic beverages “assumed a mythologic and sacred character, being, as it were, the very life essence of the cereal god.” When the spirits of these plants are personified by a patron deity, the beverage then becomes the “blood” or “milk” of that god or goddess which embodies all the life-giving, stimulating, and other supernatural and magical virtues of these most sacred of substances. —Mikal Aasved, 1988 1 SACRED INDIGENOUS BEERS are central to the culture in which they are used. All of them center around their sacred origins and purposes, the one to three plants that are used to make the fermented beverage, the moment of fermentation, and the consumption of the beverage itself. All of them are considered essential to the ability of the culture to successfully continue, and all of them are known by the culture to be a gift of the sacred to humankind. Because the vast majority of indigenous cultures have a sacred fermentation, there are literally scores of such fermentations throughout the world. The only areas that do not appear to have developed fermentation as an essential part of their culture are Australia and a few areas of North America. Plant fermentations exist throughout Africa and South America, all of them, primarily, still indigenous or tribal in nature. Indigenous European brews are almost extinct, having been transformed into large commercial processes over the past 500, and especially the last 75 years. Shadows of the original indigenous beers of Europe, remarkably similar to those in Africa and South America, still do exist in a few, small cultural islands that have not yet completely succumbed to

industrialization. These are most often found in Scandinavia and Eastern Europe. Asian fermentations are an interesting mix, as is almost everything in that amazing continent. In the highly industrialized centers, fermentation is heavily commercialized and not so different from that in the United States. But Asian cultures have not really discovered the idea of suburbia; there is a remarkably sharp differentiation between city and country life. Few in the West know that there is still an indigenous tribal culture in Japan, the Ainu, who live much as their ancestors did. And they still have a sacred fermentation of their own, though it is now prohibited by the Japanese government. Even in the heavily commercialized brewing of Asia, however, it is still possible to discern the roots of traditional fermentation. And many rural peoples still use, essentially, the same basic processes that have been followed for thousands of years. One recurring problem with the discussion of indigenous beers is that the word “beer” is never used within the indigenous cultures themselves. Each sacred fermented beverage has its own, unique name. And anthropologists can’t seem to make up their minds about indigenous fermentations. Some call them “beer”; others call the very same drink “wine” and there seems to be little logic in the decision process. Fermented maple sap is usually called a beer, fermented birch sap may be called either a beer or a wine, fermented palm sap usually a wine but sometimes a beer, and fermented agave cactus sap is usually called just pulque and rarely referred to as either a beer or a wine. I am not sure I have the capacity to solve this linguistic tangle. I think of them all as fermentations and, for the purposes of this book, as beers. It would be possible to focus an entire work on the indigenous beers of the world, but many of them use essentially the same grains, fruits, or trees. The legends, too, are remarkably similar about the appearance of those plants and the process of fermentation. Here are some of them. TISWIN THE SACRED SAGUARO BEER/WINE OF THE PAPAGOS Saguaros … they are Indians too. You don’t ever throw anything at them. If you hit them in the head with rocks you could kill them…. You don’t do anything to hurt them. —Frank Crosswhite, 1980 2 Dizziness is following me! Close it is following me.

Ah, but I like it. Yonder far, far On the flat land it is taking me. Dizziness I see. High up there I see it. Truly I like it. Yonder they lead me. And dizziness they give me to drink. ‘Tis at the foot of little Gray Mountain I am sitting and getting drunk. Beautiful songs I shall unfold. —Traditional Papago song after drinking saguaro wine 3 The saguaro, the largest cactus in the world, is, in many respects, the sacred tree of the Papago, and from its fruits they make a sacred fermentation called tiswin or, sometimes, nawai. Like many indigenous fermentations, anthropologists sometimes call it a wine, sometimes a beer, a source of great confusion to the reader. The Papago Indians are an agricultural tribal people who live in the Sonoran Desert of northern Mexico and southern Arizona; they call themselves Tohono O’odham, “the Desert People.” Unlike surrounding tribes, they have no major rivers or canals available for irrigation. The annual rainfall is scant, and the Papago have developed an agriculture centered around three plants: the saguaro, the tepary bean, and corn. Their skill in desert “water harvesting” agriculture is one of the most sophisticated in the world. Saguaros often stand to 20 feet in height, and their fruits are harvested with a specially constructed, extremely long pole. The Papago make no fewer than 12 products from saguaro fruit, all of which play a major role in the cultural life of the tribe. Among them is a sweet concentrated fruit syrup, somewhat like molasses. This is made by taking two parts fruit pulp to one part water and cooking it slowly, one to two hours, to reduce the liquid. The syrup is then strained to remove the foreign matter and returned to the pot for another hour or so of gentle boiling. It is stored in clean jars for future use. For fermentation, the syrup is mixed with water to thin it. Various concentrations of syrup to water have been used: 1 to 1, 1 to 2, 1 to 4, or even 1 to 16.

Tiswin Ready, friend! Are we not here drinking The shaman’s drink, The magician’s drink! We mix it with our drunken tears and drink. —A portion of the Papago ritual of the tiswin ceremony 4 Ingredients 8 quarts cleaned saguaro cactus fruit pulp (though it is not identical, fruit from the prickly pear can be substituted and is available in many Mexican food markets—it has been used by other tribes to make a similar drink) 4 quarts water wine yeast Slowly cook the fruit pulp and water for one to two hours after it begins to boil. Let cool enough to handle; strain and return the syrup to the fire for another hour, boiling slowly. Remove from heat and cool to 70 degrees F. Pour into fermenter and add wine yeast. Seal with air lock and allow to ferment four days (if you want to taste a traditional tiswin) and drink. Or wait until fermentation is complete, bottle, and store. ABOUT SAGUARO Carnegia gigantea In that [mist] for you the red liquor I dipped and poured; I, having drunk, gave to you; I drew you forward and set you in the circle. You swallowed and were gloriously drunk, Then I was not ungenerous with beautiful speech And with beautiful singing. Thus, vying together, we made an end. —A portion of the Papago ritual of the tiswin ceremony 5 It is said that in the long ago times, at the time of the first people, there was a sacred infant who was left unattended by his mother. I’itoi, Elder Brother, saw this and his tears fell to Earth and upon the child, whereupon they both sank into the ground. The first people, when they found the child gone, began to search,

but they could not find him until Crow began flying over their heads, calling out to them. Hearing this, they began to follow, and Crow landed on top of a 30- foot-tall saguaro cactus, a plant they had never seen before. Here, Crow ate some of the saguaro fruit and regurgitated it into a basket, saying to it, “you know what to do.” Whereupon the fruit began to ferment. When it was finished fermenting, the wine began to sing the Rain Song. Here I stand, The Wind is Coming Toward me, Shaking. Here I stand, A Cloud is coming toward me, Shaking. 6 The people all gathered there together and drank the fermented fruit wine. They were so intoxicated that they became afraid and decided to get rid of the saguaro. They called upon Badger, giving him all the seeds of the plant, which he was instructed to throw into the ocean. On the way he met Coyote, who tricked him into throwing the seeds up in the air, where the wind took them and spread them. Soon saguaro began coming up everywhere. When the people saw this, they gathered at a saguaro to decide what to do. As they were standing there, the child for whom they had been searching rose out of the top of the saguaro. Patiently, the boy showed them how to make the sacred saguaro wine. The people were told, “Now you must do something in return for this gift.” One of the young men asked, “What must we do?” In response, the child began to sing the first of more than a hundred rain songs that the Papago must remember and sing each year. The first was “I Draw the Rain.” Here I am sitting and with my power I draw the south wind toward me. After the wind I draw the clouds, and after the clouds I draw the rain that makes the wild flowers grow on our home ground and look so beautiful. 7 The people were told that they must always remember the songs and ceremonies and do them each year, for if they stopped, there would be no more rain. I’itoi then came and gave the women the cactus poles for gathering the ripe

fruits, agave-fiber head rings for balancing the collecting baskets on their heads, told them the injunctions that governed the use of the saguaro, and showed the people the ceremonies they were to follow in preparing the wine. “I’itoi [then] told the people to drink the saguaro juice just as the earth drinks rain, and that will help the rain come.” 8 And this they have done ever since. 9 Of the Papago’s primary agricultural crops, the saguaro is a wild plant; the other two, tepary bean and corn, are domesticated. The tepary bean is unique, having an astonishingly rapid life cycle, perfectly adapted to the desert and its summer thunderstorm pattern. The Papago species of corn, unlike other indigenous corns, has an extremely low sugar content (which probably explains, in part, why they never ferment it) and only needs the scant rainfall of their region in order to grow. The seasonal thunderstorms are crucial to the Papago, and tribal life centers around their arrival. The fruits of the saguaro cactus ripen at the time of greatest food scarcity for the tribe, just before the arrival of the annual rains. The fruits ripen at the end of the past year’s seasonal cycle and the beginning of the new. The last month of the Papago calendar (May) is called Kai Chukalig Mashad, the month when the saguaro “seeds are turning black.” The first month of the new year is called Hashani Mashad, “Saguaro [harvesting] month.” The tiswin ceremony is then the major ceremony of the Papago year. It is a time of purification for the past year and an opening up to the potential of the new. It readies the land, the people, and the crops for new growth and calls the rains to come. Each part of the harvesting of saguaro fruit and the making of tiswin is filled with sacred meaning. Even as they approach the saguaro, the Papago honor it and offer prayers, and they call out to each other, saying, “See, the liquor is growing.” The fruits are experienced as beginning their fermentation at the moment they are picked. Once harvested, they are taken back to camp, and the pulp is separated from the seeds and cooked down into syrup. To each jar of syrup the medicine man then comes, and with his breath and tobacco smoke he purifies it. It is then mixed with water. Young men, using only their hands, slowly mix the liquid for up to four hours, saying as they begin, “I am now mixing you up. Do me the favor to bring good wind and clouds and rain, and to keep the people from bad behavior after they have drunk the wine.” 10 The elders of the tribe taste the mixture, and when they feel it is ready, it is taken into a “round house” called yahki—which means “the rain house”—where it is poured

into four containers (fermentation ollas) of five to six gallons each, one at each of the cardinal directions. Each is settled into a shallow depression in the ground lined with straw. A fire of mesquite or ironwood is kept burning in the round house to keep the temperature constant. The wine is fermented by using a “starter” from the previous year, by wild yeasts, or by the yeast residues in the containers from the previous year. The fermentation is fairly rapid and is allowed to continue for four days. During this time the Papago dance and sing outside the round house to “help the beer along.” The fermenting beer is closely watched during its fermentation. If it ferments too fast, more water is added; if too slow, more syrup is poured in. The fermenting beer is watched over by an elder and four assistants, who watch round the clock in two shifts. This is to make sure “that it should never be alone and subject to evil influences.” 11 And they constantly sing the songs they were taught in the original time—the songs always being sung four times or a number of times divisible by four. Lumholtz (1912) noted the enthusiasm and passion of their singing. “In their enthusiasm they seemed to be trying to wring the rain from the gods…. Every time a new stanza came around, they intoned as is their custom, the first words with all the power of their lungs, giving [the] singing a triumphant expression.” 12 The moment when fermentation begins is the most important and also the most fraught with peril. To prevent any possible problem, the old men sit with the fermenting vessels “to sing, lest any magic influence it, and outside, the people must sing it into fermentation.” 13 Such singing, as I note in Sacred Plant Medicine (Boulder, CO: Roberts Rinehart Publishers, 1996), is an integral part of the sacred knowledge of plant medicine in the Americas. Plant song is, as Kathleen Harrison has so ably observed, “part of an encyclopedia on the sonic level of the same thing that seeds are on another level.” 14 Such songs are an integral aspect of the gathering of sacred plant knowledge from sacred realms. They are a mnemonic device that re-creates the sacred states in which the sacred dimension of plants were first encountered. Such songs are never “made.” They are given in vision states when knowledge of the sacred plant itself is conveyed to mankind. The anthropologist Ruth Underhill observed that these songs also hold within them powerful magic, [a] magic which called upon the powers of Nature and constrained them to man’s will. People sang in trouble, in danger, to cure the sick, to confound their enemies, and to make crops grow … song became not only the practical basis of Papago life, but also the most precious possession of the people…. The describing of a desired event in the magic of beautiful speech was to them the means by which to make that event take place. All their songs describe such desired events…. Magic will be worked if the description is vivid and if

the singing or the recitation is done, as it should be, at the right time and with the right behavior, on behalf of all the people. 15 For the songs to re-create the requisite sacred states, the singers must hold within themselves the experiential knowledge of the state of being and the sacred territory from which the song is manifested. Thus, the song is an expression of that sacredness and re-creates, renews in the world the particular sacredness out of which it originally came. This reinvigoration of the secular world with the sacred through song, in the particular instance of the Papago, manifests the necessary sacred movements toward rain that are integral to the survival of the Papago and that are intimately connected to the powers of the saguaro. The focus of mind of the participants must never waver, or the sacredness they are re-creating, and, subsequently, the return of the rain they are calling, might fail. Therefore, an “atmosphere of order, sincerity, and devotion” pervades the entire process of making tiswin. 16 When the fermentation is complete, the people gather, and the stories of the gift of the beer to the people are retold, as are the injunctions for proper behavior that I’itoi laid upon them. A first bit of the wine is given to each of the four directions and to I’itoi and Mother Earth. Then the people begin to drink. They do not stop until it has all been consumed. Unfortunately, like many deeply religious indigenous ceremonies, for a long time, the saguaro beer ceremony was forbidden by both American and Mexican authorities. A major impetus for these legal restrictions by secular government came from religious groups, especially women’s religious temperance groups such as the Ladies’ Union Mission School Association, who, in 1895, mounted a strong campaign against the making of tiswin. Spanish Catholic priests and Protestant ministers alike condemned the beer ceremonies, and a 1925 legal challenge to the law, arguing that the ban violated the First Amendment, was defeated in the Arizona courts. Many tribal members were subsequently converted to Christianity and abandoned their traditional ceremonies, and in the last 50 years the practice and understanding of the ceremony has deteriorated badly. However, there is now a general return to traditional Earth ceremonies among many indigenous peoples, and a number of groups (including those that at one time helped pass bans) are supporting the reemergence of the saguaro wine ceremony among the Papago. Besides being a nutrient and the source of a sacred beverage, the saguaro and its products have a number of medicinal properties. Saguaro fruit and wine, in sufficient quantities, act as an emetic. Smaller quantities of the mashed fruit

pulp have traditionally been used as a gruel to stimulate lactation after childbirth. 17 Slices of the fresh stem are used by the Seri Indians as a cure for rheumatism and aching joints. 18 The seeds are very nutritious, with a high fat content. (“One 4-H boy produced prodigious growth in his poultry flock with these seeds.” 19 ) The alcohol content of saguaro wine is about 5 percent. Some, sampled in 1871 after being stored in the Smithsonian for three years, was described as being “in every respect superior to much of the wine on sale [in the United States].” 20 It reputedly tastes similar to strawberry wine, though other Anglo tasters thought it had “the taste and smell of sour beer.” 21 PULQUE The Aztecs regarded their sacred pulque, the fermented juice of the agave cactus, as the “milk of the Mother,” a divine gift from the goddess Mayahuel—a gift which must not be abused. —Mikal Aasved, 1988 22 Pulque is (like birch, maple, and palm beer) made from the sweet sap of a plant. In this case, the agave cactus. For the Tarahumara Indians of the northern Sierra Nevada, the agave cactus was the first plant that Onoruame—the great father— created. And like all things, it has its own soul, “otherwise [it] would not be able to live and grow.” 23 To the Tarahumara, the soul of the agave is extremely sensitive and must be treated with great respect so that it will continue to be willing to help humankind. The making of pulque was taught to the first humans by Mayahuel, the Earth Mother, so the intelligence or soul that the Tarahumara believe resides in the heart would be able to travel to sacred realms. In memory of this gift, the Tarahumara (like their Aztec ancestors before them) call pulque “the Milk of the Mother.” About every 8 to 10 years, the agave cactus puts up a thick floral stem from its center. When they want to make pulque, the Tarahumara approach the plant and make prayers and offerings to its spirit. The thick floral stem is then cut off in such a way that a cup-shaped cavity is left in the center of the plant. Each day, the sweet sap, called aguamiel—meaning “honey water”—that accumulates in the cavity is scraped out to stop the cavity from sealing over and to maintain the flow. It is placed in a gourd, mixed with saliva or water, and placed in a special container, where it ferments for 8 to 12 days. When it is ready to drink, the first dippers of beer are taken from the pot and offered to Onoruame and then to each of the four cardinal directions.

The sweet sap is also present in the root and leaves of the plant, and a number of tribes gather it from those parts to make pulque. When the sap is fermented, it becomes a thick, white liquid, usually about 5 percent alcohol. Pulque Ingredients 1 gallon agave sap enough water to thin it to slightly thicker than a barley beer wort yeast Find several wild agave cacti that are flowering. After appropriate prayers, cut off the flowering stalk, leaving a cup-shaped depression. Allow the sweet sap to accumulate. Scrape it out of the depression regularly until 1 gallon of sap is collected. Thin the sap with water until slightly thicker than an ordinary beer wort. Pour into fermenter, add yeast. Allow to ferment until complete, one to two weeks. Drink when ready or siphon into bottles and cap. ABOUT AGAVE Agave spp. The neighboring Tepehuane Indians believe that the spirit of the agave is so sensitive to vital forces that “if one passes a jar in which it is being boiled the liquid will not ferment.” —Mikal Aasved, 1988 24 The Tarahumara, or Raramuri, as they call themselves, believe that people have many souls of differing sizes within their bodies. Each part of the body that moves has a unique and specific soul. The joints of the fingers, for instance, have very tiny souls; the mind and the heart have very large souls. The terms ariwi and iwiha, which the Tarahumara use to denote these souls, mean, when translated, “breath.” Like many indigenous cultures, for example the Seminole, who call the Creator Breathmaker, the Tarahumara associate the sacred Creator with breath, the essence of life itself. And the breath of the Creator is within each soul in a person’s body. For the Tarahumara, the larger souls are more capable of intelligence, thought, and action. The largest is located within the heart, the next largest within the head. From time to time the heart and mind souls need to travel outside the body. It is during these times that the person becomes drowsy and sleeps, and later remembers these travels, if at all, as dreams. During these times the heart and head souls journey to spirit realms to gain knowledge and help for the individual they are a part of. Usually they encounter no difficulty in returning, but occasionally they are waylaid and unable to return; without them, the body begins to fall ill. As any of the body souls can become ill, an in-depth

knowledge of the structure and action of each soul and their relationship to each other is learned by Tarahumara medicine men during their training. The drinking of pulque frees the heart soul from the body; the more pulque consumed, the farther the heart soul travels. When a great deal of pulque is consumed, the mind soul also leaves, causing the person to fall asleep. During this pulque-induced travel outside the body, the heart soul again encounters spirit realms and gains knowledge that may be used to help in both personal and cultural life. 25 This Tarahumara perspective of aggregate souls and their relationship to the body and health bears remarkable similarities to both transactional analysis and traditional Chinese medicine. Both identify nonmaterial “centers” that exist within the body that may fall out of balance and create illness. Both suggest approaches to help the individual and aggregate “centers,” and thus heal illness. Pulque, as a primary catalyst for activity in the two large souls, is important as both a sacred and healing beverage. The main agave species, also known as maguey or century plants, grow throughout the western United States in higher desert and rough terrain—on mesa sides, limestone slopes, and rocky mountainsides. There is one eastern species, Agave virginica, that grows eastward into the Ozark and Appalachian Mountains. Agave looks, to some extent, like yucca, but its leaves are much thicker and wider and are graced with sharp thorns along their edges. The agave can grow quite large, the thick, succulent, spiny leaves reaching 6 feet in height, the thick, flowering stalk 20 to 40 feet. When cut, the plant exudes a liquid something like, though not as thick as, that of aloe, another, smaller, plant that resembles agave. The sweet sap is sometimes evaporated to make a thick syrup for use as a food, pulque can be distilled into the liquor mescal, and the fibers of the leaves are a traditional source of thread and cordage. Agave has a long tradition as a medicinal plant. It is diuretic, carminative, antispasmodic, antirheumatic, stomachic, and laxative. Both the tincture of leaves and root and the fermented pulque relieve arthritis and rheumatic pains and inflammation, cramping in the stomach and intestines, gas, and act as stomach and gastrointestinal tract tonics. The fresh root, high in saponins, is a traditional shampoo and soap. The fresh sap is useful, like aloe, on burns, cuts, and skin abrasions. I am unaware of any clinical studies on agave, but those on aloe have shown the sap to cause wound healing acceleration and to possess antiviral activity, anti-inflammatory action, and antiulcer action, in vivo and in vitro. 26

CHICHA AND CORN BEER For thousands of years, indigenous peoples of the Americas have formally recognized corn as a teacher of wisdom, the spirit inseparable from the grain. Through corn’s natural ways of growing and being, the spirit sings of strength, respect, balance, harmony. Of adaptability, cooperation, unity in diversity. Songs of survival. —Marilou Awiakta, 1993 27 Corn has long been used not only as food and medicine, but for fermentation. It was the most important fermentation in the Aztec Empire and central to their economy and most of their ceremonies. Their architecture, road systems, town construction, and irrigation were all oriented, in part, around the making of corn beer. Tribal cultures in North America, contrary to common belief about their historical access to alcohol, also fermented corn (and other) beers. These beers were ubiquitous not only in Texas and New Mexico but throughout the southeastern regions of the continent—another form of the Corn Mother’s gift to humankind. 28 Chicha, one form of corn beer, is one of the oldest of indigenous fermentations. It refers, generally, to beers made from corn, sorghum, millet, plantain, and manioc, but in the main almost always refers, now, to those made from corn. Traditional chicha is made through saliva conversion of cornstarch to sugar. However, a number of cultures also use germination to produce starch conversion. The word itself is derived from the Spanish chichal, meaning “saliva” or “to spit,” and comes from the common indigenous method of converting starch in corn to sugars by using the enzyme ptyalin in human saliva (see chapter 6). TRADITIONAL CHICHA OF THE QUECHA INDIANS The Quecha of Bolivia make chicha in the traditional manner throughout the country. They use a dozen maize varieties, two being culli, a cherry-red to almost black maize (that produces a burgundy-colored chicha) and huilcaparu, a bluish-brown corn with a silvery sheen that makes a darker, brownish chicha. The dried maize kernels are coarsely ground by hand between a traditional half-moon-shaped stone rocker and a flat stone. The maize flour is slightly moistened with water, rolled into a small ball, and placed in the mouth. It is thoroughly worked with the tongue until it is completely saturated with saliva. As it becomes saturated, it begins to take on a sweetness as the ptyalin converts the cornstarch to sugar. It is then pressed by the tongue against the roof of the mouth to form a single mass, popped loose, and taken out to dry in the sun. This

saliva-malted maize is called muko. To make the beer, two-thirds muko is combined with one-third unmalted corn (there is enough extra ptyalin enzyme available to convert this unmalted corn) and (sometimes) pulp from a local squash (Curcurbita ficifolia) and (sometimes) the fruits of the prickly pear cactus. Hot water is added and the mixture is stirred for an hour, then allowed to cool and settle undisturbed. It separates into three layers: a liquid on top (upi), an almost jellylike layer in the middle (misqui kketa), and the ground grain on the bottom (hanchi). The liquid, upi, is scooped out with a gourd spoon and placed in another container. The misqui kketa is placed in a shallow pan and slowly cooked until it takes on a caramel color and flavor. The hanchi is pressed and the remaining liquid thus extracted is added to the upi. This upi mixture is boiled for three hours, then removed from the fire, and the misqui kketa is added and all of it well mixed. It is allowed to naturally ferment until fermentation ceases (about six days), and it is then drunk. 29 The fermentation takes place in porous clay pots that usually contain yeast residues from prior batches of chicha. Thus, new fermentations usually begin from the old yeast held in the porous clay. Like all indigenous beers, the making of chicha is highly ceremonial. Chicha Ingredients 3 pounds coarsely ground cornmeal 1 pound squash pulp (any will do, from pumpkin to winter squash) 1 pound prickly pear cactus fruits 3 gallons water yeast Make muko from 2 pounds of the cornmeal. Making muko is best as a family event as it is in Mexico and South America. The family gathers around and shares stories and companionship until it is done—two to three hours. When the muko is dry, combine with the rest of the cornmeal, the squash pulp, and the prickly pear fruit pulp removed from the pods. Add the 3 gallons of water heated to 150 degrees F and allow to stand until cool. Ladle out the top layer and set aside. Scoop out the middle, jellylike layer and cook in a stainless steel pot on the stove until it attains a caramel-like color. While this is cooking, press the grain, squash pulp, and cactus fruit pulp. Add this liquid to the initial liquid you drew off. Boil the two for one hour. When the cooking jellylike middle layer is ready, add it to the boiled liquid. Cool to 70 degrees F, pour into the fermenter, and add yeast. Allow to ferment until complete, siphon into bottles, prime, and cap. Ready in about a week.

TESGUINO THE TRADITIONAL CHICHA OF THE TARAHUMARA INDIANS OF MEXICO Because the Sun and Moon often fall ill, the Tarahumara continue to “cure” them with tesguino. Every ceremony begins with a libation to these heavenly bodies but they sometimes require ceremonies held especially for them, and particularly for the Moon. —Mikal Aasved, 1988 30 Some traditional chicha beers are also made from germinated or malted maize instead of saliva converted corn. A number of cultures in South America make beers from malted maize, and there are several such beers in North America. The Mescalero Apache make tulpai; another is the tesguino of the Tarahumara tribe in Northern Mexico. As with all the indigenous cultures of the Americas, maize is sacred to the Tarahumara. Onoruame, the Great Father, gave maize or corn beer to the Tarahumara to help them in their work as human beings, to ease their spirits, and to bring them joy. They make tesguino by germinating the maize in large pots that can contain up to 75 pounds of grain. The maize is covered with water and soaked in a pot that is kept warm for two or three days. After that time it is drained, and while still moist is placed in a prepared shallow trench. The trench is a foot to a foot and a half deep, dug in a sunny location, and lined with pine needles and grass. It is then covered with more pine needles and grass and small stones and left alone to germinate. When it has germinated, it is dried and coarsely ground. Sometimes lichens, mosses, other plants, or wild oats are added for flavor and additional properties. The fermentation is started, unusually, by brome grass that contains a naturally occurring yeast. The tesguino is allowed to ferment for three or four days and then drunk. After the beer is fermented, and before any is drunk, it is first dedicated to Onoruame. “A little beer is dipped three times from a larger gourd and tossed in each of the four directions.” 31 After the corn harvest, the remaining cornstalks are also used to make a corn beer, paticili. The stalks and leaves are pounded on rocks, then squeezed in a net to extract the juice from the plants. The juice is strained and boiled and a number of local roots and herbs are added. When it cools, it is fermented, usually with a starter from tesguino. 32 Corn is generally considered more difficult to germinate than other grains; the first European settlers in North America found it so difficult they relied almost exclusively on birch and maple sap to make their beers—at least until they began growing barley. In South America, germinated corn, called jora, can

be bought quite easily. Some South American grocery stores in the United States carry it, but you may have to make your own. Authors and homebrewers Wendy Aaronson and Bill Ridgely have experimented perhaps more than anyone else in making traditional chicha from home-germinated corn. The following process is theirs. If you wish to make a more “indigenous” chicha, you can take the time to search out American Southwest blue or red corn or simply buy “Indian” corn and remove the kernels from the cob yourself. Do not use seed corn unless you are sure it has not been treated with pesticides. Feed corn, available in 25-or 50-pound bags, is a yellow sweet corn and is fairly easy to find. To germinate corn, soak two pounds in cold water for 24 hours. Place the corn in a colander for germination. Spray cold water on the corn twice a day and turn it once a day. This prevents drying of the seed head and prevents its molding. Germination should start after two days, and the sprouts should reach two inches after five days. (Aaronson and Ridgely suggest expecting no more than 50 percent germination.) The germinating corn usually develops a sweetsour aroma that some find unpleasant. After the sprouts reach two inches in length, take them from the colander and spread on a plastic sheet to dry in the sun, or dry them in the oven at the lowest setting. What follows is Aaronson and Ridgely’s recipe for chicha. Chicha from Germinated Corn Ingredients for 1 gallon 8 quarts water 1 pound germinated corn (jora) 2 cups brown sugar 8 whole allspice or cloves ale yeast Crush jora rather coarsely and place in the brewpot with 8 quarts cold water. Stir and let sit one hour. Bring to a boil, add the sugar, then lower the heat and simmer three hours (stirring regularly). Add spices at end of boil. Remove and let sit undisturbed one hour. Then strain the liquid portion into a fermenter using a colander or wire basket lined with cheesecloth. When cool, pitch yeast. Ferment at room temperature (60 to 75 degrees F) for five days. Rack to secondary and ferment one or two more weeks until clarified. Bottle using 1 teaspoon corn sugar per bottle for priming. Allow two more weeks of bottle-conditioning before drinking. 33 FRUTILLADA

Frutillada is chicha with strawberries or other fruit added. I suspect the more ancient chichas exclusively used prickly pear or other indigenous fruits rather than strawberries. To make frutillada, use two to three pounds crushed strawberries per gallon of chicha. Add the fruit to the secondary fermenter after primary fermentation is complete, then rack the chicha onto the strawberries. It will ferment strongly from the additional sugars in the fruit. When this is complete strain and bottle as above. CORN PLANT ALE Many cultures, like the Tarahumara, have also made corn beers from the corn plant itself. The corn plant is extremely sweet, much like sugarcane, and is even sold in some parts of the world to be eaten like sugarcane. The sweetest plants are either the young plants before they put out ears of corn or the larger mature plants from which the budding corn has been removed before attaining maturity. The sweetest corn varieties, of course, produce the most sugar in the plant. Early in the American colonies and throughout the indigenous world, many peoples used the corn, then cut the stalks and used them to produce sugar or a ferment. Corn was not native to New England. It did not make the long journey to that part of the world until about A.D. 1000. The Indians of that region had a tradition that firmly connected corn to the southwestern United States. Roger Williams, writing in 1643, noted that the Indian legend of the gift of corn to the Northeast held that “the crow brought them at first an Indian Grain of Corn in one Eare, and an Indian Beane in another, from the great God Kautantouwits’ field in the Southwest.” 34 The Indians passed their knowledge of corn on to the American colonists, who used it as a primary food staple. The sugar extraction process the colonists used to make beer from cornstalks is remarkably similar to that used by the Tarahumara Indians of Mexico. Landon Carter, writing in 1775, describes it: The stalks, green as they were, as soon as pulled up, were carried to a convenient trough, then chopped and pounded so much, that, by boiling, all the juice could be extracted out of them: which juice almost every planter knows is of as saccharine a quality almost as any thing can be, and that any thing of a luxuriant corn stalk is very full of it…. After this pounding, the stalks and all were put into a large copper, there lowered down in its sweetness with water, to an equality with common observations in malt wort, and then boiled, till the liquor in the glass is seen to break, as the brewers term it; after that it is strained, and boiled again with hops. 35 The sugar obtained from the cornstalks was boiled to about half its volume before being used to make beer, being then about the same sweetness as malt

wort. Cornstalk Beer Ingredients 1 1/2 gallons water 6 six-foot green cornstalks, cut in 2-inch sections yeast herbs, fruit, or spices as desired Pound the sections of cornstalk with a wooden mallet until reduced to a pulp. Add pulped cornstalks and any liquid to 1 1/2 gallons of water. Boil for one hour and let cool. Pour off the liquid and squeeze the cornstalks in a cloth until they are as dry as you can get them, collecting this squeezed liquid in the same pot that holds the original liquid. Place the liquid back on the fire and reduce to 1 gallon total volume. Cool to 70 degrees F, pour into fermenter, add yeast. Ferment until complete, then siphon into primed bottles, cap, and store. It is ready in one week. For extra flavor, since corn sugar is somewhat bland, you might add herbs, fruit, or spices of your choice. Corn in general makes a mild, sparkling beer, somewhat cidery in taste and appearance. 36 CHIACOAR THE TRADITIONAL CORN BEER OF THE SURINAME INDIANS OF SOUTH AMERICA Chiacoar is a fermented beverage made by the Suriname Indians of South America from maize. The maize is ground, baked into bread after which is it crumbled and macerated in water and allowed to ferment…. Another method of making chiacoar [is one] in which the meal is wrapped in banana leaves. The Indians boil the packages in water and then hang them in huts for 15 or 20 days. They become covered with a mold of yellow in the high altitudes, but with one of green in the lowlands. They are then taken down and the contents dissolved in water and sweetened with unrefined sugar. The product is strained and placed in a wooden vessel to ferment: and sometimes kereli is added. In three days it is ready for drinking. —Ernest Cherrington, 1925 37 This traditional beer of the Suriname Indians is included because one form of it is unusual, using a type of fermentation most commonly found with rice—that of a mold to convert the starches to sugar in order for fermentation to occur. I haven’t found any other reference to it than that cited above, but it suggests that mold fermentation is more common than usually supposed (see “Chang” in this chapter). Additionally, though I have not gone into this in any detail, many cultures made beer by another, entirely different, method. That is, they would take regular grain, grind it, make it into bread (though cooked only half the time usually used for bread), and then crumble the bread, as above, into the fermenter

for brewing. The type of pots, strainers, and stance used in South America are identical to those used in ancient Egypt. Again, this leads credence to the emerging speculation that there was an ongoing transatlantic trade with Egypt for thousands of years (see chapter 6). ABOUT CORN Zea Mays The Law is in the Corn the people of the southwest say this … to be there with the morning sun in that sacred time … to talk to the corn, to hear it talk in the wind in the language of movement … what to do. Out here at the Eastern Door, we say it is the Original Instructions … This is called Democracy. It is in the land, it is in the seed. —Alex Jacobs, Karoniaktatie 38 Corn is, perhaps, the sacred plant for many of the indigenous cultures of the Americas. The story of the coming of the Corn Mother (which is much longer and richer than what I will share here) has long been an important teaching story for indigenous peoples (as it is, indeed, for all people), and it contains much wisdom. Selu, the Corn Mother, was sent as a companion to the first man to comfort his loneliness and help him remember the sweetness of his heart; in so doing, she became his wife and the mother of all humankind. Her body, besides giving life to the first children, was also an essential nourishment for the bodies of humankind. I see the following stories as both being about Selu. One as Maiden when she first came, and the other as Grandmother, later when her children had children. There are numerous stories of the origin of corn, its sacredness, and how it came to human beings. Perhaps the best book about the sacredness of corn is Marilou Awiakta’s Selu: Seeking the Corn Mother’s Wisdom (Golden, CO: Fulcrum Publishing, 1993). It is said that in the beginning Creator made the first man, who was named Kanati, father of all the human beings. Kanati, for a long time, enjoyed being on the Earth. He had been created a great hunter, and as time went on, it was all he thought about, all that he did. And, in time, he did it too much. The animals, upset at how many of them were being killed, went to Creator and complained,

saying: “Kanati is killing too many of us. If it keeps on like this, soon there won’t be any of us left.” Creator, not having noticed because he was busy with other things, thanked the animals, and thought long about what to do to help them. After awhile Creator realized that Kanati needed a companion. So Creator sought out Kanati, found him sleeping in the sun, and caused a corn plant to grow up beside his heart. The plant grew up tall and straight, and from the top of the cornstalk Selu —the Corn Mother—came, strong, tender, and singing. Kanati, hearing the song, woke up and looked around, wondering what was happening. And then he saw Selu. Immediately, he was taken by her, and the sweetness in his own heart was kindled to overflowing. He reached up his hand and asked Selu to come down to him. She smiled and told him to wait, and then she reached up and took an ear of corn to bring with her, knowing that, as for all human beings, your heritage must be taken with you. Then, giving Kanati her hand, she stepped down, the first woman, companion to the first man. “Of Lovely, Sweet Scents,” woodcut by Weiditz from Petrarch’s Von der Artzney Bayder Glück, Augsburg, H. Steiner, 1532 Together they went to Kanati’s home. Selu went into the kitchen, and soon a wonderful smell came from the kettle bubbling on the stove. And breathing it, Kanati felt in harmony with all life. It is also said that much later there was an old woman with two grandsons. They were good hunters and there was always enough to eat. One day when they were readying their weapons for hunting, their grandmother came to them and said, “I see you are going hunting today.”

And they replied, “Yes, we are.” “Well,” she said, “when you get home I will have something wonderful for you to eat. Corn.” While they were hunting, though, they were wondering about that strange word their grandmother had used—corn. They killed a deer and took it home. The kettle was on the fire, bubbling, and a wonderful smell came from it. “What is in the pot?” they asked their grandmother. “It’s the corn I told you about.” They sat down to dinner, and it was the most wonderful food they had ever eaten. Each day this happened. They went hunting, and when they came home she had cooked more corn, and each time they felt it was the most wonderful food they had ever tasted. One day, though, they began to wonder where this corn came from. One said to the other, “I will hide today and see where that corn comes from.” And the other brother agreed. So, hurrying off, the younger brother hid and watched. After awhile he saw his grandmother coming with the kettle from the stove. She put it down, and then leaning over she began to strike her sides. Each time she hit her side, corn fell from her body into the pot until it was quite full. Then she carried the kettle back to the fire and began cooking. The young man, filled with this knowledge, hurried off and told his brother what he had learned. “It comes from her body,” he said, “that is what we have really been eating.” And the other brother, horrified, said, “Well, we can’t eat any more of that. It is not a good thing.” So the brothers agreed that they would not eat any more of the corn. When they arrived home from hunting, the corn was cooked and waiting for them. But this time neither brother would eat what she had made. “What’s wrong?” asked the grandmother. “Nothing,” they said. “We’re just not hungry.” But the grandmother looked keenly into their faces and replied, “What is wrong? Don’t you like me? Or did you find out something that makes you not want to eat?” The boys would not meet her eyes and did not answer. And as she sat there, the grandmother began to become ill. She then knew they had found out where that corn had come from. She struggled up from the table and went to her bed. As she lay down she turned to them and said, “Now that I am in bed, I am going

to die. And you must listen to what I tell you.” Her grandsons came close. “When I am dead, you must bury me outside in the ground and put a fence around my grave. In time a plant will grow up from where I am buried. When it gets big it will have large ears of corn growing on it and a brown tassel coming out. That is how you will know when it is time to pick the corn. After you pick it, you must save some of the kernels, and in the spring, plant them. Thus more corn will grow. And so I will be the Corn Mother,” she said. “Don’t ever forget where I am buried.” And these things her grandsons did. 39 When humankind began to look too deeply into Selu’s secrets, to sneak around without respect, something wonderful was lost to mankind forever. Vaclav Havel (referenced in chapter 1) touches on this dynamic: Today, for instance, we may know immeasurably more about the universe than our ancestors did, and yet, it increasingly seems they knew something more essential about it than we do, something that escapes us. The same is true of nature and ourselves. The more thoroughly all our organs and their functions, their internal structure and the biochemical reactions that take place within them are described, the more we seem to fail to grasp the spirit, purpose and meaning of the system that they create together and that we experience as our unique self. In seeing only the physical, humankind has long been forgetting the nonmaterial and spiritual aspects of our world and human life. We have become so far removed that, in fact, it is not uncommon now to have Western scholars seriously conclude that there is no nonmaterial aspect to life at all. Many now think that the assertion is sensible even if overly simplistic. But the wisdom of the Corn Mother reminds us, in its own way, that there is more to life than the material. Some of the most brilliant scientists are beginning to hear her. Corn has long been a plant studied by geneticists, not only for the enhancement of food production, but to better understand genetics itself. In the latter part of this century, in 1983, a corn researcher, Barbara McClintock, was awarded the Nobel Prize for her work on corn. What she discovered is truly remarkable. McClintock, a cytologist specializing in genetic research, spent more than 60 years studying corn. Her findings challenged many of the most basic findings in genetics and evolution. Organisms, she found, when under stress, engage in genetic changes not predictable from their genetic makeup, a process now known as “jumping genes.” And these “jumps”—gene crossings and genetic changes—are under the intentional control of the organism and the environment

it lives in (the land). In other words, organisms intentionally respond to environmental stress by combining genes in unpredictable ways that allow the organism to better survive. McClintock’s biographer, Evelyn Keller, comments: “Where do the instructions [for gene rearrangement] come from? McClintock’s answer—that they come from the entire cell, the organism, perhaps even from the environment—is profoundly disturbing to orthodox genetics.” 40 She continues, noting that there is “a degree of fluidity of the chromosomal complement (or genome) of organisms and thus our genetic structure” now needs to be thought of as a dynamic structure, rather than a static linear message inscribed in the sequence of DNA.” 41 McClintock’s findings undercut significant components of Darwin’s theory of evolution (survival of the fittest over slow eons of time) and also open up new directions in the exploration of the intelligent actions of the Earth, Gaia. Like many people who truly embrace the essence of science, McClintock was in touch with greater truths than those understood by less well-endowed researchers. McClintock commented that science often misses the crucial understanding of the whole because its practitioners too often focus on the isolated parts. She observed that one must have “a feeling for the organism” and insisted that the corn itself “guided and directed her work” and “spoke to her” throughout the long process of her studies. I still remember her standing bemused in front of the scores of journalists and television reporters who had traveled to her remote laboratory to question her after she was awarded the Nobel Prize. When they asked her what she was going to do with the money, she replied, “They give you money for that?” 42 McClintock’s findings have the same wide-ranging implications for the nature of human reality and humanity’s relationship with universe that Godel’s incompleteness theorem, Einstein’s theory of relativity, and Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle do. Marilou Awiakta, whom I mentioned earlier, is one of the few writers that I know of who has seen the importance of the general applicability of McClintock’s work to the human condition. The difference between McClintock’s work and that of other researchers is that the corn itself revealed what it wanted her to know. McClintock did not “spy” on the corn without permission. And isn’t it interesting that it was a woman who brought this knowledge of the wisdom of corn to mankind? Like beers made from honey, beers made from corn possess both the medicinal and nutritive properties of the substance from which they are made. Researchers such as Clifford Gastanieu in his Fermented Food Beverages in Nutrition (New York: Academy Press, 1979) have shown that corn beers are a

powerful part of indigenous dietary regimens and that they effectively prevent or cure many diseases. Still, like most fermented beverages, little, if any, research has been done on the medicinal effects of corn beers. However, many early observers commented that the corn beers of indigenous cultures acted to prevent many diseases. The Spanish writer Garcilaso de la Vega (1539–1616) commented that he was highly impressed with the remarkable curative properties of corn, which is not only the principle article of food in America, but is also of benefit in the treatment of the kidney and bladder, among which are calculus and retention of urine. And the best proof I can give of this is that the Indians, whose usual drink is made of corn, are afflicted with none of these diseases. 43 Corn is anodyne (soothes pain), diuretic, demulcent, anti-inflammatory, and tonic. It is used throughout the world in the treatment of kidney stones (calculi, gravel, and strangury), cystitis, acute and chronic inflammations of the bladder, urethritis, and prostatitis. Its coating and soothing qualities in combination with its pain relieving properties and anti-inflammatory and diuretic actions make it a primary herb to use for any urinary tract infection. In contemporary herbal practice, the corn silk is usually used. Cornmeal has long been used as a poultice in the external treatment of ulcers, wounds, swellings, and rheumatic pains. The mush has long been used for those with debilitated digestion or recovering from long illness, and for allaying nausea and vomiting. In some instances corn will become infected with a particular fungus, Ustilago segetum, that also has a long tradition of medicinal use. Ustilago, in its effects on human beings, is considered to be a cross between rye ergot and large doses of nutmeg, both hallucinogenic in their effects. Ustilago is also a cerebral stimulant, with attendant narcotic and hallucinogenic effects on the human organism. Medicinally, it has been used in minute doses as a uterine contractant to help during labor and as a cerebral stimulant. It also possesses powerful abortifacient activity and is a strong astringent useful in postpartum hemorrhage and hemorrhages from the lungs and bowels. Overdoses are quite serious in their effects—the loss of all body hair, spontaneous abortion, convulsions, and eventually, death, if the dose is large enough. 44 MASATO OR MANIOC BEER Manioc, a major source of beer, is one of the most important garden crops of all South American horticulturalists. —Mikal Aasved, 1988 45

Manioc, sometimes called cassava or yucca (not the same yucca that grows in North America), is an indigenous plant of South America that grows very fast and produces a root that may weigh up to 30 pounds. The roots develop in about three months, are a foot or two long, and two to six inches in diameter. Manioc has been used for food and fermentation for at least 4,000 years. Generally known as masato, manioc beer is also known under a variety of names according to the tribe or region in which it is made. Masato comes in a rainbow of colors depending on the techniques or ingredients used by individual brewers: milky-white, amber, brown, bluish-white, or even yellow. Usually about 4 percent alcohol by volume, some masato is stored for years underground and attains a powerful 14 percent alcohol strength. The best of it, in spite of the simple and unhygienic conditions in which it is brewed, is reputed to taste much like the best Belgian lambics. The Jivaro of South America brew two kinds of manioc beer—nihamanchi, the most common, and sangucha shiki, their powerful ceremonial beer. Essential to this process, like many indigenous beers, is the use of human saliva to convert starch to sugar. Probably the oldest written account of the making of fermented manioc beer, made similarly to nihamanchi, is the account of the Huguenot minister Jean de Lery. In 1556, he traveled to Brazil, a young member of the first Protestant mission to the New World. In 1578, de Lery published the accounts of his travels and observations in his History of a Voyage to the Land of Brazil, Otherwise Called America. His stories of the making of caouin, the traditional fermented manioc beverage of the Tupinamba Indians, provide the earliest written account of how it is made. (Manioc roots contain cyanide, which must be removed before consumption. Cyanide is water soluble and, also, is destroyed by heat.) After the women have cut up the roots as fine as we cut turnips for stewing, they let the pieces boil in water in great earthen vessels; when they see them getting tender and soft, they remove the pots from the fire and let them cool a little. When that is done, several of the women, crouched around these great vessels, take from them these little round pieces of softened root. First they chew them and twist them around in their mouths, without swallowing them; then they take the pieces in their hands, one after the other, and put them into other earthen vessels which are already on the fire and in which they boil the pieces again. They constantly stir this concoction with a stick until they see that it is done, and then removing it from the fire a second time, without straining it, they pour it all into other bigger earthen jars, each having the capacity of about an eleven-gallon Burgundy wine-measure. After it has clarified and fermented, they cover the vessels and leave the beverage until people want to drink it. 46 The Jivaro process is essentially the same, except only half of the cooked

manioc roots are chewed and mixed with human saliva. The rest, mashed into a paste, are mixed with the chewed manioc, into the consistency of mashed potatoes. Water is added, and this is then fermented from one to three days. Manioc Ale If you cannot find manioc, and you probably cannot, you can use tapioca. Tapioca is usually made from manioc roots, though some brands are made from potatoes. Try to find the real thing. If you are lucky, you may be able to find manioc at a South American market in the United States or from someone in Florida. In which case, you can try a traditional recipe in which you boil the root first (see “About Manioc”). Ingredients 2 pounds tapioca 2 gallons water yeast Roughly grind 1 pound of the tapioca (which comes in small round pellets). Get the largest pellets available. You don’t want a fine powder, so make sure you grind it coarsely. After grinding, moisten it slightly so that it can be rolled into small balls from 1/2 to 3/4 of an inch in diameter. Follow much the same method as for chicha beer. Pop a ball into your mouth and thoroughly work it with your tongue until it is completely mixed with saliva. Keep your mouth closed, as the heat in your mouth makes the process more effective. It is done when it will stick to the roof of your mouth. Push it forward with your tongue and remove and let dry. When dry, take the malted tapioca and add it and the rest of the tapioca, also roughly ground, to a fermenting pot. Add 2 gallons water at 150 degrees F. Let it cool naturally until it is 70 degrees F. Add yeast, cover, and ferment until complete. Siphon into bottles, prime, and cap. Ready in approximately one week. ABOUT MANIOC Manihot esculenta The origin tales of manioc are remarkably similar across South America and also bear great similarities to those of corn, rice, and barley. It is said that in the long ago times there was the daughter of a great chief. One night, while she was sleeping, the spirit of the Earth Mother came to her and said that she was with child, a child that was bringing to all the people a sacred gift of the Creator. And so it was that the daughter became pregnant, but as yet she told no one. However, as the year went by and her pregnancy became obvious, her father became quite angry, thinking she had been sleeping with the young men of the village. But the daughter insisted that she had been with no